#russ please

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[courtmartialme]

recent fma comms ! 😚

( comms post )

[marrekeye]

Keegan “Freak Eyes” Russ.

Was trying to make a joke about Keegan’s thousand-yard stare but it didn’t really turn out the way I wanted, so you just get charming(?) still slightly off putting Keegan instead! Logan isn’t quite sure whether to be disturbed or turned on. 💀

I was honestly really shocked about the positivity on the wip post, tysm for that!!! Some of y’all’s users or reposts are ridiculous, I loved them. Anyways, expect more ghosts content in the future.

These guys have been invading my brain since like last year, which is a bit sad but whatever lmfao. To the like 20 active people in the Ghosts fandom, hope you enjoy the food 🫡

Also including the original freaky Keegan sketch because I love its stupidity and it really captures the energy I was going for 😔

[yeyinde]

Keegan P. Russ | Call of Duty: Ghosts

Damn, kid, who taught you how to do that?

[viensamoimoncher]

for a show with trailers, dialogue and hell, even taglines about how "memory is a monster"

a lotta people sure forget that, y'know

MEMORY IS A MONSTER

[theblabarmy]

russel💕🎀

1st one based on this iconic cam'ron pic

[bryhoney]

Recognisance Pt.6

Hello!! I hope you enjoy! Just wanted to say thank you for all the support this fanfic has received so far :) I'm also sorry in advance :((((

<-Previous Next->

AO3

I've got an interview coming up for potentially a dream job offer so I'm prepping for that all the time at the moment - hence the slight delay in posting updates! But fingers crossed that all works out and it should be regular again!!

You’re seated opposite Gabriel and you note that he’s irritated at the commotion around you. No doubt he wanted to seat you in some private room to interrogate you but with the aftermath of the Ghost’s infiltration of the base - there isn’t anywhere to go. 

You’re in an office that hasn’t been soundproofed, people are frantically ferrying their wounded colleagues or scrambling to gather information from each other. 

Gabriel will be called away soon, he will have to answer to someone or orchestrate the next steps the Federation will take. He’d likely take the brunt of the blame for this mishap. 

“Now, I’m only going to ask you nicely, once. You let them out, didn’t you?” He’s smoking, which you find unnerving. He’s doing everything he can to appear calm, but you’re sure he’s shaken by the breach and furious with your actions. 

You don’t answer immediately, you’re not sure what the best approach here is. Despite everything, he’s still the only constant you have in your life. 

“You didn’t tell me,” you’re oddly proud at how stable your voice is, you feel numb to everything other than the man opposite you, and you’re not even sure he’s an ally anymore. 

He sighs, moving to stand. You can tell he’s wrestling with himself to maintain his composure. He looks out the window at the flurry of soldiers outside the office. 

“I thought it’d be better this way, I’ll explain it all when this is over,” he sounds sincere, gesturing to the hallway to indicate that ‘this’ is the catastrophic impact of the ghosts.

“You killed my father,” you whisper, hating everything about this situation. You hate that your heart aches for a man you don’t know. You wished, more than anything, to remember the man whose voice you’d heard consoling you, who sounded like he loved you. 

He turns back to you, “He wasn’t your father in the end, he was a liar - a traitor,” his voice is cold and hard and the look he gives you is lethal. 

You’d also betrayed Rorke.

A soldier bursts into the room, “Sir,” his attempt to portray a calm indifference is admirable despite the heavy breathing that gives him away. 

“I’ll be back soon, I expect you to be in your room until we can secure the site again,” Rorke says calmly before turning his back to you. He strides out of the room, following the younger man towards the main control centre. 

It takes you a second to stand, hesitant to walk through the soldiers. Did they know who you were? Would they kill a relative of a Ghost? A Walker? 

You hold your head up high and turn towards the living quarters, trying not to look at the extent of the damage that just a handful of men wrought onto a base full of highly trained operatives. 

—

Time moves very slowly as you sit and wait in your room for Gabriel. 

You’re sure that outside your room, the base is still in chaos but it’s completely silent in here. You’ve shut out every thought and memory that tries to resurface as you quietly try to piece together what you know. 

Firstly, You’re a Walker. Your brothers are Hesh and Logan Walker. 

From what you can recall, your childhood had been a happy one with the Walkers. This fact is less concrete, just moments of a normal, if somewhat eccentric family. 

Secondly, you were tortured by them. The memories of your time in the room are hazy and interwoven with snippets of pain. But it was them - you’re not sure what drove them to do that to you. What had you done to turn them so far against you? 

Rorke had told you that you’d been tortured to get to him. Who were you to Rorke? You had more ties to the Ghosts in Blood alone. You can’t recall being field-trained or dangerous enough to pose a substantial threat to them. 

But Rorke insisted that they wanted to recapture you.

But you were out in the field, and you had tried to kill someone. 

You had been raised by the leader of the Ghosts. Was it so unlikely to think you hadn’t also been taught some basic self-defence? 

Your brothers were ghosts. 

You-

“Keegan,” that was your voice, it was breathy and- 

Oh God. 

Oh God. 

What the ever-loving fuck was happening. You knew next to nothing and Rorke had kept you in the dark. You had no idea who to trust. 

Why didn’t he tell you? 

Your memories would come back. They had to, you couldn’t stand this awful limbo of not knowing who you were and what had happened. 

The door clicked open, and Rorke stepped into the room before locking it behind him. You felt small, entirely defenceless with him in this space. 

“How you holding up, sweetheart?” his tone calm, reassuring as though nothing had happened. You furrowed your eyebrows. You’d allowed his enemies to escape and now he was calling you pet names? 

“I’m alright,” your voice is small and your knees are now tucked up towards you. 

He sits at the foot of your bed, looking towards you in the darkness, “Today was- it wasn’t what we expected,” he’s being honest, so you hope to keep him calm and keep him talking. 

“No kidding,” you try smiling through the darkness at him. You’re, entirely preoccupied with self-preservation - it’s as though you’ve cornered a wild animal. 

He smiles back towards you, “I suppose it’s high time you knew the truth.” You're taken aback, this was not the route you thought this military strategist would take. You had convinced yourself he would try something more calculated than the truth. But, that is assuming this was the truth. 

You bring your arms up to hold yourself, “maybe," you’re being soft, giving him no reason to see any threat in you. 

“You’re not a Walker,” he says it as though it’s obvious and it earns a physical, knee-jerk response from you,

“I am! I am a-”  You’re furious, he’s going to lie to you again.

“Let me finish,” his tone is violent, final. He softens as you flinch from him, never once has he yelled at you like this. He’s volatile, you’ve always known that and yet-

“You were a Walker,” he adds, he sighs and meets your gaze again, and you don’t expect it. You’re silent so he’ll continue. 

“You were a Walker, God knows what you were before the Walkers took you in.” He tries a smile at you, clears his throat and reaches towards his pockets, “You’ve been a Rorke for just under three years now,” his hand extends towards you, he’s holding a ring. 

You’re blinking rapidly, you feel yourself pale as your stomach drops through the floor. 

No. 

“What?” you whisper, heart in your throat.

“It’s yours,” he says, and you take the ring gingerly, inspecting it as though it might trigger some long-buried memory of your time with Rorke, your husband. 

No. 

This isn’t right. 

“I don’t- I don’t remember any of this?” your voice is level and calm, but internally you’re trying to stitch together even more fragments of your life. 

He laughs, “It was rushed, and they hate me all the more for it.” He places a hand atop your knee and you don’t shrug him off. 

“This doesn’t make sense, I wouldn’t have joined the Federation if I were a Walker, we’d have been enemies? How did we even-?” your train of thought is derailed by the constant theorisations forming and collapsing in your head. 

“It’s a long story, kid, but, I was a Ghost once, before-” he pauses, clearing his throat,  “I was close with Elias,” he replies, and God- it sounds honest. You don’t have any timeline to place this all on to verify anything he’s saying. 

He looks at you, sighing as he continues, “I don’t expect you to wear it, they tried to destroy every part of me from your memory when they took you. I was foolish, I didn’t think they’d hurt you because they were.” He stands, and you track his movements. You feel stupid, even less certain. But he was so much older, how did you even meet - and yet- 

You believe him. 

“Gabriel, I-” You’re not even sure what you were going to say but you felt the need to continue. It makes sense, why the Ghosts would want you alive, why’d they want to hurt you. 

But they’re home. They were home once. 

“I’m sorry," he says, “I should have told you from the start, I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” He moves towards you and kisses the top of your head. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Is all he says before he leaves. 

And you almost hate him for it, he has ripped away the idea that you had a family that loved you. Of course, you didn’t have a family, you only had Gabriel. 

But he was so much older, how did you even meet - how?

The man who has been nothing but respectful and kind. Your husband. 

It explains why the Ghosts want you. It explains why a highly capable, violent man remained calm with you despite freeing his sworn enemies. You hate how much it makes sense. 

“He’s dangerous, and he knows exactly how to kill us,” It’s your father, a briefing before a mission. 

Likely against Rorke. Your husband. 

You don’t remember any of this. 

The Ghosts had taken so much from you. 

You had so many questions. Despite the answers Rorke had given you, you felt more in the dark than ever. 

“You’re infuriating, you shouldn’t even be in that room, anything could-” You cut the man with the deep voice off by kissing him. He doesn’t hesitate - his hands reach for you. One hand on your waist pulls you towards him, the other holding the back of your head fingers in your hair as he devours you. He kisses you with such intensity your knees feel like they’re about to give out from beneath you. You whisper, “Shut up, Keegan,” against him as you lose yourselves in each other, he’s pushing you backwards until your back hits the wall. You gasp at the impact, and he raises one of your legs to his waist before he pushes his hips against yours, you moan into his mouth-

No. No. 

How could a Ghost, Keegan, do those things to you in your memory and then so easily carve a knife into your skin? 

You’re sobbing. Utterly frustrated at your inability to remember anything that could help you put your life back together. 

You weren’t a Walker after all.

[loving-azerath]

I live for feral Keegan. He comes back from a dangerous mission, adrenaline still running high and he comes straight back to find you and fuck out all the excess energy 🤯🤯

Keegan literally can make my stomach do the acrobatic routine that got Dick Greyson's parents killed alright?

CW: Dub/Con (if you stretch for it), rough sex, praise, degrading, spit play, choking, Keegan being feral. (I will add Aftercare as always because I think its important if you don't wanna read the after care it will be under an asterisk

Female reader

You hate when Keegan goes undercover. He would be gone for an undisclosed amount of time and you never knew when he was coming back. Sometimes he would get enough time to himself to call you. Tell you what he could but it wasn't often.

You were not a stranger to the dangers of the mission being a solider yourself. Though in a different unit. However, it only made it worse for you. You knew how dangerous so you knew how easy it was for him to not come home.

He always did though. Sometimes his mood would vary. Times where he lost someone he would lock himself away in his office or shut down for a week or two until he was ready to talk about it. You were always so patient with him.

Times he would come home after a failed mission he would mope around for a couple days before getting back into things. You would always remind him that he couldn't win them all. Tell him it wasn't his fault even if when he told you the story you knew it was. He didn't need it from you . Not you.

Then there was the times he came home from missions he succeeded one. The dangerous ones that made his skin feel like it was electric. You knew the feeling all too well. You knew how hard it was to come down from after.

This was one of those times.

You didn't know he would be home. You spent the day texting his turned off phone. You knew it was turned off for his safety but you also knew when he turned it back on he likes to read your texts like a story. You always texted him about your day while he was gone. This time though, you texted him more than that. You had sent him a couple of suggestive photos. Even one from your memories of his thumb in your mouth with a cock drunk expression in your eyes. You were too busy doing your before shower routine. Smoking a blunt to help you sleep without him, you didn't see your messages get the small little "delivered" message under your texts.

The water in this apartment always took so long to get hot so you turned on the water, blasting your music as you took off your robe hanging it on the door and look in the mirror. You looked over each imperfection you would pick out. Narrowing your eyes at them before seeing your reflect blur with the signal that the water is ready.

The water and your music being so loud you don't hear the door open. Keegan walking into the living room looking around at the small space for you. His phone gripping in his hand with an iron grip. His skin was still electric and he had so much energy he could run a marathon. He planned to. Not running though.

He hears your music and knows you are in the shower. Perfect for him, he needed to shower with the sweat and grime that he was coated in. He moves into the bedroom the smell of your shampoo filling the space. He strips himself of his uniform sighing as the heavy vest is moved off of his shoulders. As soon as his length is freed he groans. The constriction of his pants were killing him, it being made worse by your little photos.

You never bothered to lock the bathroom door when you were home. So he knew he could sneak it without you so much as hearing him. You were so blissfully unaware of his presence in your place. The weed making the water feel like heaven.

He opened the door quietly, closing it the same way. You had your eyes closed as you tilted your head back to allow the conditioner to rinse free. He slid into the shower with you, so close but not touching you yet. No he took time to run his eyes over your soaking figure. He was hooked on the look of you like this but he needed more. His body needed more to decompress. So he reaches forward grabbing your mouth and hooking an arm around your waist to pull you close. His lips moving to your collar.

"Don't scream...not yet...it's just me" He says, you had screamed against his hand briefly eyes widened at his sudden appearance in front of you. You were so stoned you had thought maybe you smoked a bit too much. "Fuck baby I missed you"

He drop his hand from your mouth kissing you. You moaned into his mouth at the sudden pressure. You had missed him so much you felt like just the kiss was enough to bring you to the mood. Your hands traveling to his hips. When you touch his inner hip he goes insane for it. Needy for it. He loved your hands there. He groaned at the pressure.

"Kee when did you get back?" You said when he finally permits you air. He comes out breathless and the sound of it makes his head spin. Fuck did he miss your voice. Miss the nickname he only allowed you to call him.

"Just now, couldn't wait. Need you now" He groans against your skin as he kisses down your neck and jawline. "Fuck I have so much energy. I might get rough"

You moaned at the thought. You fucking loved when he got rough.

"Safeword?" He asks, you knew what he was asking for

"Fanta"

"Good girl, you better use it if you need it." He says, you just nodded. He gestured to his body wash behind your head. "Grab that"

You do and he grabs it from you, tearing his hands off of you was hell and he didn't want to but he had to be clean. He needed to be clean for you. So he grabs your hand squeezing some of the heaven scented gel into your palm. Then moves your wrist to his length. You knew what he wanted. You pumped him like this was lotion and his groans made more heat pool in the bottom of your stomach.

He had done his best to clean the rest of him but your hand almost brought him to his edge too quickly and he forced you hand away effectively accidentally edging himself. He curses and you just look at him as he looks up to the ceiling in the feeling grimacing at his lack of release. He is all soapy and shiny and your high ass is about to melt. He shakes his head.

"Wait for me in the bedroom doll. You're too tempting" You smirked at yourself. Listening and leaving with a sneaky hang brushing his cock. He choked on a groan and fights the urge to pound you against the shower wall right now.

You dried off in the room, and within the next five minutes the water shuts off. Your music forgotten as he moves into the room. He doesn't hesitate grabbing you by the throat and slamming you hard on the bed. You gasped and fidgeted under him. He moves your legs apart with a knee placed between them. He tucked his knee against your core. The friction sending your high ass into heaven. He moves the knee back a millimeter to keep you from it.

"No no, not yet. Not yet. I need you to be my doll for a moment alright? Can you be a good girl for me?" He asks, you whimpered at his words. Internal screeching at how hot he sounds. His deep graveling voice pleading for you to be his fleshlight. You just nod and he leans forward capturing your lips. His kisses are always so sloppy during these times. You loved it. Feeling as his tongue dominates yours and your mouth. He moaned into your mouth at the feeling.

He lifts you off the bed by your throat still moving you in front of the mirrored closet door. Placing you on your knees. His thumb brushing against your lips. You smirk and recreate the photo. Sticking his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it. maintaining eye contact while his blue eyes soak in the sight.

"Fuck doll" He whispered as his thumb leaves your lips. He grabs a hand into your wet and unbrushed hair using his others to guide is member to your lips. Keegan did not have what one would call husband dick. What is husband dick? 5-6 inches. What did Keegan have? A much bigger dick. Summer fling dick. 8 inches and girthy. He knew how to use it too and that was a deadly combination.

So when you open your mouth and he pushes himself all the way back into your throat there is a lot of him to take in. You struggled against the intrusion in your throat and he just moaned. Whined almost at the pleasure.

"That's it baby. Breathe through it out through the nose baby" He sighs he pulls you up for air and you gasp it but he uses it as an opening to slam you back down. Your hand hovers over his thigh. Three taps and he stops thats all you need to do if it becomes too much. You don't use it, but you prepare in case. He begins to fuck your throat at a punishing pace for himself.

He wanted nothing more than to rutt into your pretty mouth with no regard but he couldn't. His care for your comfort still takes over even the worst of thoughts.

You had saliva dripping down your chin and onto your chest and your wetness between your legs was dripping down to your thighs. Every thrust and curse leaving you more and more dripping.

"Look at me" He tells you, you do and he groans making eye contact with you as he thrusts into you. "Fuck you look like such a whore like this. I fucking love when you look like a little whore"

Finally he pulls out of your throat, leaving saliva dropping down your chin again. He swipes it with his thumb and then grabs your chin roughly getting you to your feet as he basically manhandles you to the bed. Your knees hitting the edge and you tip over. A hand on your chest has you pushed into the bed laying down. He looks over your body like this.

"You are so fucking hot" He whines as he moves in his fingers moving to your core and running a gentle finger through your folds. You buck your hips towards him and he laughs. Laughs "Look at you being a bad doll. Dolls don't get to be needy."

"Kee please...I've missed you" You groaned, the weed making you so fucking sensitive that it was torture to be teased in any capacity. He doesn't move his hand from your face. He slides the tip of himself through your folds you whined at the pleasure rolling your eyes at it.

"Ooh baby, you missed me?" he coos teasing you further you nodded and tried to buck your hips to him but he shakes his had. "I don't fucking care doll. Sit still and take it"

His hand moves from your face, down to your throat keeping you in place as he slides through your wet folds. The friction makes your head spin. Soft whimpers falling from your lips which he breathes in like it's air. He is panting and whimpering in his own way at the feeling of your slickness against him. He can't handle it anymore getting further onto the bed releasing you but only for a moment.

"Bend over on the bed. Face the mirror" He demands, you are panting and needy and you listen far too quickly. Sober you would be begging for a little pushback. Tease him. Banter. Anything. Not this time, you just wanted to be fucked. He get behind you watching himself in the mirror, watching your anticipation on your face and it seems to make it worse. He needed you more than he needed air.

He places himself at your entrance and wastes no more time shoving into you. Slamming into you until his hips rests against your ass. The moan that escapes your lips is so lewd that he wishes he had recorded it. He wanted that moan imprinted on his fucking skull.

"Shit Doll, you like it when I shove into you like that don't you?" He asks "What a fucking whore. To like it like this."

"Please move, I need it" You whine

"Dolls don't get to talk" He tells you "Unless it's my fucking name don't say shit"

He shoves a thrust into you making you yelp at the pleasure. Your brain is fuzzy from the weed and the pleasure. You white knuckle the sheets in front of you. His pace picks up, slamming into you like it is all you are there for. The sound of your bodies slapping together and the squashing sound from your slickness. It almost is louder than your panting moans.

"Shit Dollface you feel so fucking good" He groan punctuating the words with hard thrusts he reaches forward grabbing your hair and forcing your head up. "Look at how good you look getting fucked like this"

"Keegan" You moaned which makes his eyes practically roll out of his head.

"Fuck say it again"

"Keegan" You whine

"Just like that Doll. Fuck you feel so good. I missed this tight pussy so fucking much" He growls as he slams harder into you. His other hand moving to your hips calloused fingers digging hard into your hip. "Tell me how much you missed my cock"

"So fucking much kee" You answer, too fast which makes him laugh aggressively pulling you flush against his chest by your hair, ignoring your yelp and sharp exhale. His hand on your hip moving to cup one of your breasts. Moving your hardened nub between his fingers.

"Open that fucking pretty mouth Doll" He orders, you do "Stick out that tongue"

You do that too He spits in your mouth, and groans as he watches you face.

"Fuck you're such a whore. Look at you." He says forcing your head back to the mirror. You take in your cock drunk appearance, far too high and dumb from his dick to focus on your imperfections. Just how lewd and pornographic the scene is. He is thrusting into you so hard and at a punishing pace that leaves you panting harshly. "Look at how well you take this fucking cock Doll. How well do you take it tell me"

"Keegan" You whined not knowing how the fuck you were supposed to reply. You couldn't form a single intelligent thought if you tried. How the fuck were you supposed to reply to that. He shakes his head yanking on your hair again spitting in your mouth again.

"Answer the question. How well do you take my fucking fat cock?" He asks

The whimpers coming from your lips turn into mewls as you attempt to figure out an answer for him. Growing impatient he shoves you back into the bed, pressing your face into the mattress as he picks up his pace. His hand moving to the base of your neck to keep you firmly on the bed but allow you to breathe. His thrusts become erratic and uneven and his moaning turning further into whimpers and groans.

He reaches under you with his other hand ribbing circles into your clit which ignored before so rudely. The waves of warmth and pleasure that radiate through you could have melted the artic. Tightening that ball of tension in your core that threatens your release.

"Fuck you perfect fucking doll. I need you to cum all over me. Come on be a good girl for me. Cum on me" He tells you "You are so fucking perfect you fucking whore. Cum on me"

The stars you see ripping through your vision as your orgasm shatters you remain even as the orgasm passes. They remain in your vision as you clench around him. Tightening further which makes him curse under his breath. Pulling him so close to the release he's needed for months. The release he denied himself in the shower.

"Good fucking girl. Good fucking doll." He grinds out, punctuating the words once again with his hard thrusts. He doesn't last much longer "The answer is so fucking well. You take this dick so fucking well"

The sensitivity in your clit ignites further, unsure on the cause. Weed, his words, his finger still messily slipping around your soaked folds as he fucks you so hard you can't think. You don' t know but you feel yourself building again.

"Kee, cumming" you announce and scream his name and profanities into the mattress. He moans feeling your walls clench around him again. Throwing him off his cliff and his orgasm is so intense that he forgets he still has you in his grasp. Not really forgets but forgets that you are a person for a moment

"Oh fuck" He grinds out through it, his hand on your folds moving to your hips and shoving them into the bed into bone prone as he pushes into you his grasp bruising and hard "Oh fuck Fuck"

He fills you, so much escapes into you from the months he has spent without. His energy depleted and his craving sated.

"Good girl"

**AfterCare**

When he pulls out of you and his mind comes down from it's high he realizes how rough he went near the end. He rolls you over onto your back checking your face for any signs of discomfort.

"You did so good for me. Was I too rough?" he asks you shake your head.

"I should tease you on missions more often" You say, he chuckles and then gets up grabbing a water from the minifridge in the corner. Put in for this reason. He hands you a water with no words. You know to drink it. He walks to the dresser to grab himself boxers and you a pair of his shorts. He stops when he see's the blunt's butt and the lighter he looks back at you. Guilt sweeping through him.

"Are you stoned right now?" He asks you freeze and nod slowly. "Baby I wouldn't have if I-"

"I'm fine Kee, I liked it" you say with a giggle he doesn't like it still he sets the shorts beside you helping you clean up the mess he made of you. Lightly kissing you everywhere he can. Every bruise he could see you would have he kissed pressing an ice back from the fridge against it. Whispering how good you did. How beautiful you looked. How precious you were to him Praising you more than usual because he felt bad. You didn't. You were so utterly fucked you knew you would think about it forever. Those sex flashbacks were going to hit different.

[a-jar-of-peanutbutter]

POV: you cosplay Keegan from CoD

[platinummice]

It’s 2am

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

Russ Ballard

[staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty]

I am genuinely curious, when I made my last post I saw that a couple of us had some OCs that were the offspring of Primarchs. So I gotta ask, How many of you guys have OC children of the Primarchs and which Primarch is it that's giving grandkids to old Big E? For myself, Sanguinius has Lilith that is both greatly loved and the source of so many panic attacks because baby birb's fav uncles are Fulgrim and Leman. Usually ends up dirty with either one; paints with Fulgrim and dirt with Leman.

[samithemunchkin]

[yeyinde]

Keegan P. Russ | Call of Duty: Ghosts

[konigceo]

i need the councils opinion !!!!!!! (edit : THIS IS ALL NSFW!!)

keegan x reader

keegan + choking plus more !!!!!!!!! little drabble !! might be a little on the more kinky (??) side

könig x reader

könig with a sweet gf who's a freak at home :3 again another drabble !!!!! nothing too scary

simon x reader

erm its been rotting my brain for 3 months and its around 1.3k words long??? cute fluffy stuff, nothing extreme !! a little bit of jealous reader :3 still a wip :(

[shadow-0-8]

my whole day was ruined today 😩 jk lol

anyways, today I saw a post where the guy was wearing a Keegan cosplay, and the mask was very obviously Keegan’s. Well, it broke my heart to see everyone fangirling over Ghost in the comments (im being so fucking dramatic 💀) but I would just like to remind everyone that’s this is Keegan

And this is Ghost

Very different masks, bitches. 🤨😡